


ease

by OnyxSphinx



Series: newmann one-shots [120]
Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: M/M, Things Get Better, it's hopeful, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-07
Updated: 2019-12-07
Packaged: 2021-02-18 12:06:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21710482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnyxSphinx/pseuds/OnyxSphinx
Summary: none of this is easy, but that doesn't mean they're not going to keep trying
Relationships: Newton Geiszler/Hermann Gottlieb
Series: newmann one-shots [120]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1286762
Kudos: 12





	ease

**Author's Note:**

> anon asked: "Your writing is so beautiful. I wish I could write like you. I don't know how you can do so many different types of stories and emotions and do them all so well. I have a prompt if you don't mind: "It’s better that you don’t know. It’s easier not to remember.” + “Nothing about any of this is easier.” + “Having you back is easier than not.”"

The wall between him and the outside is thick; enough that it muffles sound. Newt would know—he’s been in here for long enough, after all; two years, nearly, even if only one of them he’s been in control of himself at all.

Now, though, it’s him—well, most days; there’s still _episodes,_ as it were, but it’s like 98% genuine Newt Geiszler.

Whatever _that_ means anymore.

Anyway, the wall muffles sound, hence why Newt is being cuffed and strapped up in a straight-jacket—he has a visitor; one who wants to _talk._

Well—at least it’ll be a change from staring at the monochrome insides of his cell.

“Maybe today it’ll be Jr,” he murmurs; mostly to himself, considering that the guards basically pretend that he’s not here.

One of them tugs the bindings a bit to tight and Newt hisses a breath through grit teeth. “ _Not_ really into this—“

“Shut it, Geiszler,” the guard growls, and Newt purses his lips but falls silent. The other guard doesn’t speak, just deals with the rest of the clasps.

Newt sighs; as silently as he can.

At least he’s going to get to talk to someone, right?

It’s—

“ _Hermann?_ ”

The other turns to face him; blinks, once, twice. He doesn’t look _surprised,_ exactly— _Newt_ definitely is; he wasn’t even aware that Hermann was _alive._

Hermann’s lips turn up into a tentative smile. “Newton?” he greets, “oh—it is you, isn’t it? They told me you were clear, only I...” he trails off.

Newt swallows; something about the words—that frightened, fragile hope—speaks volumes. “Uh, yeah, it’s me.” He tries for a smile.

It doesn’t succeed, obviously; Hermann’s eyes fill with a spark of tension. “I’m glad of that,” he says, but there’s—_withdrawal _ in his tone; hesitation.

“What did they _do _ to you?”

He doesn’t even realise he’s said it, at first; not until Hermann’s gaze snaps to him; _alarm,_ he thinks, maybe, or something else.

Hermann smiles this time; wan. “No one did anything to me, Newton.”

“The— _them,_ ” Newt hisses, past the block in his throat and doesn’t manage to resist the instinct to flinch even at the suggestion of the name.

This time, he pauses; his lips pursed tight and eyes hollow, nearly; one hand hanging slack by his side and the other gripping, white-knuckled, the head of his cane. “It’s better you don’t know,” he says; painfully gentle. “It’s easier not to remember.”

He means for _Newt—_and Newt knows it, and it terrifies him that even now, Hermann would sacrifice his own health and happiness for Newt’s false sense of peace.

“Nothing about _any _of this is easier!”

“Having you back is easier than not.”

The hollowness takes Newt aback; the painful desperation tangible even though it doesn’t show in the other’s voice, and oh; Hermann has always been so painfully good at controlling himself, hasn’t he?

Newt swallows. One, two. In through the nose and out through the mouth. For maybe the first time, he truly hates the straight-jacket they have him in; hates how it means he can’t freely move and touch and, fuck, _comfort_ Hermann.

The other’s impressive expression cracks; the corner of his lip trembling, and then he squeezes his eyes shut; takes a seat in the one chair in the room. “They’re, ah, treating you well, I hope?”

He might mean the PPDC; might mean the Precursors; Newt doesn’t know, really. He shrugs. “I’m fine, now,” he says. “Not even mostly-possessed anymore.”

The attempt at humour falls painfully flat; then again, it isn’t so much funny as grim. Newt shifts from foot to foot, the material of the straight-jacket changing his skin; itchy and coarse.

“I brought you something,” Hermann says; quietly; finally breaking the awkward silence. “It’s not much, but…”

He reaches inside his jacket; pulls out a single envelope; places it on his lap. “I...” he pauses; starts again, no longer meeting Newt’s gaze. “I never was brave enough to apologise.”

Newt laughs; suddenly, and involuntarily; the sound ripping from his lungs and clawing at his throat; brings tears to his eyes. “ _Apologise?_ ” he chokes out; finally.

Hermann’s expression shutters. “Nevermind,” he says tightly, “I’ll see myself out—”

“No! I didn’t mean—I was just... _surprised,_ ” Newt says; words tumbling out, hasty. “You don’t need to apologise for anything.”

 _Whatever it is, it was probably my fault,_ he doesn’t say. “I can’t read it, anyway.”

“Oh,” Hermann says; and rises; strides towards Newt. “Here, let me—”

He’s cut off as Newt flicks away; violent, drawing a hiss as he accidentally knocks him against him. “ _What_ are you doing?!”

“ _Trying_ to undo your restraints,” Hermann snaps; takes a step forward. “Now let me—”

“ _Last time I nearly killed you!_ ”

The exclamation is pained; genuine; words burning as he pushes them out, desperate, _desperate_ to make Hermann understand. He can’t—he _can’t—_

“Oh, Newton,” Hermann murmurs; and the envelope falls from his hand to the ground, forgotten. “You won’t hurt me.”

“You don’t know that!” Newt bites out, and flinches again when Hermann moves forward; hand cupping his face. “You can’t _know_ that,” he says; again, more quietly.

Something passes over Hermann’s face. _Understanding,_ maybe, because a moment later, he steps back; hand no longer pressed to Newt’s skin. “Apologies,” he murmurs, “I should have asked.”

“Maybe you should go,” Newt says; tiredly, chin dropping to his chest; breathes out shakily. “Not exactly good company right now, you know.”

“Only if you want me to,” Hermann returns. “A single word from you will silence me forever.”

“Mr. Darcy. Nice,” Newt laughs; more of a huff of air, really, eyes still closed. “Uh. Yeah, maybe, um. I think I’m kind of at the end of the rope for today, you know.”

“Of course,” Hermann says, and Newt cracks an eye open; watches him begin to turn away.

“Wait!”

Hermann stops. “Um, maybe...” Newt’s voice cracks, and he starts again. “Maybe you can come back again?”

Hermann’s gaze softens. “Oh, Newton. Of course,” he says.

“Okay.” Newt swallows. “Uh. Bye, for...for now.”

**Author's Note:**

> you can find me at [autisticharrow](https://autisticharrow.tumblr.com/) on tumblr


End file.
